


Time Traveller Part II (Brace the Barricade in My Mind)

by Branithar



Series: Zsashos V [2]
Category: As It Is (Band), Set It Off (Band), Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Cybernetics, Cyberpunk, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22558525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Branithar/pseuds/Branithar
Summary: Ben and 173's stresses continue! But hey, they're making friends and that's what matters.
Relationships: Benjamin Langford-Biss/Awsten Knight
Series: Zsashos V [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1464040
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's here! Chapter one! I can't wait to write chapter two!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben notices a familiar face in an old court trial tape.

Ben squeezed his eyes shut against the glaring lights above him, head feeling like it was wrapped in barbed wire. Something cold and horribly invasive drew a line down his body and he tried to look down at it, but found that he couldn’t move his head. Figures dressed in all white surrounded him, staring down through the lenses of empty, uncaring masks. 

He shut his eyes again, a sense of familiarity bringing no comfort as he silently begged himself to wake up. 

Sleep reluctantly loosened its grip on his body and he curled onto his side, groaning at the pain that he wasn’t sure was remembered or imagined. Feeling his stomach twist, he yanked his bunk’s panel open and tumbled out, hurrying for the bathroom to throw up. 

Another interrupted sleep cycle. The first in about four cycles, so he supposed it was an improvement. After Maxx fucked with his augments, it had been several rotations before he could get through a full cycle. Now that he was getting into deeper sleep, he was having more nightmares, though, so really he just couldn’t fucking win. 

As Ben cleaned himself up, he wondered if the dreams were just projections of what he assumed had happened to him after his capture or something worse. Memories of times they left him awake during surgeries. Maybe it didn’t matter. It was over now. All he had were the nightmares. 

Squinting against the glowing numerals of his wristcom in the semi-darkness, Ben clicked through the screens until he found the one keeping track of his sleep cycles. He’d made it about half way through this one and Geoff and Awsten still wouldn’t be up for a long time. He should try going back to sleep, but he didn’t much feel like laying alone in the dark with only his thoughts for company, or falling asleep and being rewarded with more nightmares. He grabbed a book from the table and quietly made his way out, adjusting the settings on his wristcom to indicate that he was awake.

Patty had scavenged the device for him so that they could stay in touch while Ben was hiding at Geoff and Awsten’s place and Ben was still figuring out how half of it worked. His confusion with modern tech made him feel fucking old. Back in _his_ day, he’d been pretty good with computers, enough to hack into OGR terminals and send every dirty secret to his people, but now he found himself constantly asking Geoff or Awsten for help, even after several ticks of puzzling over the goddamn unintuitive UIs. 

Geoff and Awsten’s shack was nearly half a rotation’s journey from Zsashos V’s core, in an area locally known as the water district. It looked like it had been some kind of theme park once, noisy and full of bright, colourful stimuli to keep guests entertained, but that aspect had long since been left to rot. It was hauntingly quiet now, as was the preference for most of its current noise-sensitive inhabitants.

Ben sat down on a grimy park bench, opening his book and watching the loading icon turn. As he waited, a nearby air vent creaked open, bony fingers tipped with wicked claws reaching out. A long, thin arm followed, hand finding purchase on the wall and pressing against it as it pulled its body out of the vent. 

A skeletal, humanoid creature with dry, pale skin, horribly elongated limbs and dark sockets where its eyes would be emerged, climbing down the wall with all the cacophony of a dying breath. Head-to-toe, it had to be well over two metres tall, but in its current crouched position it probably didn’t even come up to Ben’s chin. Still, it was a wonder that something so big could fit in such a tiny vent. 

The creature spotted Ben and began to crawl over. 

“Good morning, Jill,” Ben greeted. 

“Good morning,” Jill rasped, her lips pulling apart in a large, needle-filled grin. She stopped just in front of him.  
“Done some shopping?”

Jill looked down at the small sack in her hand. “Yesss. Fried daashi fingers. Would you like some?”

“No thank you.”

Jill looked back at him, still grinning. “How are you?”

“Alright. Still watching these trials.” He held up his book, which still hadn’t loaded. “You?”

“The papersss went through. Bob and I are divorsssed now.”

“Oh. What’s happening to the house?”

“We’re selling it and sssplitting the money.”

“That’s what you’d been hoping for, isn’t it?”

“Yesss.”

Ben’s book beeped. 

“Oop. Better get back to it, then.”

“Tell Geoff and Awsten I sssaid hello.:

“Sure.”

“Good day,” Jill hissed, heading for another vent.

“Bye.”

The limith were probably some of the only people who had bothered to establish any kind of government on Zsashos V. From what Ben could tell, they seemed to have a normal, functioning society, an apparently impossible feat for anyone else here. 

Ben brought up the summary of the tape he’d loaded onto the book, his throat tightening when a name in a line of text halfway down the page caught his eye.

_Witness Maxxivol Danziger testifies against Ghelphae Gixid, captain of Zsashos V._

Heart thudding in his ears, Ben tapped the text to bring up the video. He found himself frozen for a moment, his eyes glued to the still on the screen.

Maxx.

There he was, dressed in a shitty suit, short bleached hair swept up at the front, looking uncharacteristically stern as he leaned towards the lawyer beside him to listen to something they were telling him. Although it was just a courtroom, probably three metres in diameter and empty aside from the table they were seated at, Ben found it jarring to see him in such a formal setting. 

Finger trembling, Ben tapped the screen and Maxx unfroze, pulling away from his lawyer and staring at his hands as an artificial voice spoke over the courtroom PA system. 

_”Maxxivol Danziger.”_

_”Yes, your honour,”_ Maxx replied, looking up. 

_You are here to testify against the crimes of extremist organisation One Great Race as committed by Captain Ghelphae Gixid of luxury station Zsashos Five, correct?”_

_”I am.”_

Ben barely processed a word of the tape. Why had Maxx exposed himself like that? At the time, the tapes wouldn’t have been available to the public, but everyone in the resistance knew how hackable court records were.

Even still, Ben found himself feeling glad Maxx had done it. He hadn’t thought that he’d ever see the faces of any of his old friends again, but Maxx was right there and he was _himself_ , not just an OGR drone walking around in Maxx’s body. 

The description of the next tape came up and Ben frowned. Maxx wasn’t in this one. He went to the contents page and scrolled through. He wasn’t in _any_ of the other tapes. He went back to the tape after Maxx’s and pressed play. Maxx’s lawyer was still there, but with them was a woman Ben had only vaguely known back then. 

_”Kattarin Jones.”_

_”Yes, your honour.”_

_”You are here to stand in for Maxxivol Danziger, reported missing, to testify against the crimes of extremist organisation One Great Race as committed by Captain Ghelphae Gixid of luxury station Zsashos Five, correct?”_

_”I am.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awsten is tired.

“Good morning!” Geoff said brightly. 

Awsten grumbled a reply, sliding out of his bunk. Checking his wristcom, he found two unread messages from Ali and opened them. 

**p had another seizure**

Awsten rubbed his eyes, feeling sick. 

**dont tell b** , the other message read. 

Patty had decided early on that he didn’t want Ben to know how bad his condition was. He said he was worried that he’d just hate himself for it and that he had enough going on as it was. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

**how is he?** Awsten messaged back. Ali’s messages had been sent a while ago, so Awsten didn’t expect any replies to come just yet. He glanced at their empty bunks. 

“Where’s Ben?”

Geoff shrugged, rummaging through a locker for breakfast. “Outside?”

Awsten went out, spotting Ben on a bench at the other side of the atrium. Since moving in with Awsten and Geoff, his hair had grown out enough to cover the tips of his ears. He’d totally look more badass if he shaved it back again, but that was probably hard with all the augments in his head. Maybe it was part of his cover, too, having a simple, unassuming haircut that would make bad guys underestimate him. Smart. 

“We should get you new clothes,” Awsten suggested as he approached him. 

Ben glanced at him, then looked down at his ancient, ill-fitting labwear. “I suppose so,” he replied. 

All his clothes had been stark white when he’s first moved in, but had quickly accumulated their shares of stains that Awsten didn’t think even a laser could remove. Such was the nature of clean things on Zsashos V, he supposed. 

“Find anything interesting?” Awsten asked, gesturing to the book in Ben’s lap. 

“Nothing,” Ben sighed, closing it. 

“You’ll find something soon,” Awsten told him. Gathering intel _was_ kinda his thing, after all. He nodded back to the shack. “Geoff’s making breakfast. You wanna come inside?”

Ben shook his head. “Later.”

He probably wanted to do some reconnaissance or something. Watch for suspicious people and shit. He sat out here so much that he probably had all their neighbours’ schedules memorised. 

Awsten’s wristcom buzzed. 

**ok now. tired**

He headed back and messaged Ali. **tell him ill kick his ass if he doesnt get enough rest**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 173 tracks down a target.

The craft 173 had tracked the last of his targets to was at least a revolution old. It may hafe even been here back when Zsashos V orbited Iphion. Everything useful had been stripped from it long ago, whole panels replaced by tarps to give its occupants privacy. 

As he watched, the target emerged from the craft. A human. Juvenile, according to a quick scan. They glanced at him and frowned, then hurried away in the other direction. 173 detected an elevated heart rate.

Pulling out his knife, he followed the human. They disappeared down a hallway, briefly looking back at 173 with fear in their eyes. 173 picked up his pace. He knew the layout of this area, but it would be easy to lose them in the maze of corridors ahead. 

He turned the corner and stopped dead. The human was there ahead of him. A quovroli had them backed against a wall. 

173 ducked back out of sight, closing his knife and pocketing it. As he unslung his rifle from over his shoulder, he listened to the conversation. 

“You look lonely,” the quovroli murmured, “I heard that humans can die from loneliness. Maybe I can be your friend, if you come with me.” 

“I’m fine,” the human replied quietly, “I have friends.”

“What kind of friends let you wander around alone like this? What if something happened to you? They wouldn’t even know.”

Shit. The rifle cartridges were almost out of charge. 173 didn’t want to risk running out if this turned into a fight. He hooked the rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his scavenged revolver. 

“They would,” the human protested weakly, “They’ll notice if I don’t come home and they’ll be mad. They’ll come looking for me.” 

“Sure they will,” the quovroli growled, “I’m Avain’s butcher. Even if they figure it out, everyone knows better than to fuck with us.”

The revolver cartridges were charged. 173 closed the cylinder and readied himself. It sounded like the human was struggling now. 

“Let me go!” they cried. A loud crack echoed and they screamed. 

173 jumped out from his cover, pointing his gun at the quovroli. The human was lying on the floor now, tears streaming from their eyes, one of the quovroli’s hands around their lower leg. 

“Let them go,” he called, slowly walking forward.

The quovroli looked at him and bared its teeth. “Aw. Is this one of your _friends?_ ”

The human gave 173 a terrified look. “Please help me,” they whimpered. 

“Let them go,” 173 repeated.

“You know what I think?” the quovroli growled, releasing the human, “I think Avain’s gonna eat well this rotation.” 

The dropped to all fours and lunged at 173, nearly closing the distance between them before 173 fired two shots into their mouth. They stumbled to a halt, their tail thrashing as they shook their head and coughed. 

173 pulled the trigger again, the shot burning into the quovroli’s eye. They collapsed to the ground, twitching as a growled died in their throat. 

173 blew on the warm cylinder, more out of some long forgotten habit than necessity, and stepped over the quovroli’s body. 

“Thank you,” the human said shakily as he approached, “I don’t think I know you. I’m Stefna.”

“You looted a vessel about twelve rotations ago,” 173 said, “A stealth craft. _My_ stealth craft.” 

Recognition and dread filled the human’s eyes. “You didn’t- You’re not the one who’s been killing everyone else, are you? The people I used to work with?”

“What happened to the parts you took?”

The human was crying again. “We sold them all, I don’t know who to. I didn’t get a big cut, but you can take whatever you want from my place. Please don’t kill me.”

173 pointed his gun at their head. “Did you keep any of them?”

“No.”

173 pulled back the safety. 

“No, please, I swear I didn’t!” The human shuffled back, crying out in pain. 

A scan showed that the quovroli had broken their left fibula, probably to keep them from running. The scan also told 173 that the human was at least half his biological age. The word “child” wormed its way into his mind. 

No. He knew better than to use words with such emotional connotations. This was a witness. He knew what to do with witnesses. 

Why was he holstering his gun? Why were his feet walking away? Why the fuck was his target still alive, whimpering in pain as they crawled back home?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otto starts at his new job.

Pushing his gills out of his face, Otto surveyed the room before taking a bite out of his fish and sliding out of the pool. The only other person in the room was a human with short blond gills sitting on a park bench a safe distance away. They looked up as he slithered past, but didn’t try to talk to him. No comments on how he looked small for a behak, or questions about his thin, soft scales, or disgust at how he was eating in bites instead of just swallowing the fish whole. 

Thank fuck. Starting a new job so he could buy supplies for his farm was stressful enough, especially when he couldn’t get to it through the pipes. Being out in the open air made him nervous. He only needed this job for a few rotations, just until the farm took off and he was at least growing his own food. Hopefully. 

“Gustanzilotto?” a gleth asked when he arrived at the place he’d been told he’d be working for a rotation. 

“Guxta’anzilotto,” Otto corrected, “Just Otto is fine.” He didn’t understand why non-behak could never quite pronounce his whole name right, but he supposed that the universe was full of mysteries. 

“Otto,” they amended, “I’m Bahtir, your supervisor. You work in construction before?”

Otto shook his head. 

“That’s fine. You’ll learn as you go.” Bahtir led him to a large swimming pool filled with scrap metal. “The client wants to take out all the rubbish and fill it with water so they can make a nursery for their kids. For now, it’s just some heavy lifting until it’s empty.”

“Can do,” Otto said, taking another fish out of his satchel and biting in. Whatever people thought, he was still strong for a behak his size.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 173 contemplates humanity.

173 had had a lot on his plate since 83N’s escape. Getting his collarbone repaired, eliminating the witnesses who looted his craft, finding a new craft, tracking down 83N _again._

He held his wrist tightly, waiting for the painful spasms in his fingers to subside. So far he’d succeeded at none of those things. The osai that augmented his collarbone had definitely ripped him off before she escaped with his gun, another witness in the wind. 

He had a lead on 83N, though. He and his captors had left the core and gone into hiding, but apparently they had friends in a distant district. Friends who may even be willing to take them in. It was tenuous, but it was something. Any group of humans was worth investigating. 

The fact that humans were so rare that people thought it was worth talking about when they saw more than two together was a testament to their failure as a species. If they were strong like him, there would be thousands on this station alone. Disappearances would be unheard of because no one would dare snatch them up for food or experimentation. None of them would be sick or starving because they’d run everything and always make sure their species had enough. 

They wouldn’t be officially classified as endangered if they hadn’t rejected OGR all those revolutions ago. 

A quovroli sniffed at him as it stepped onto the tram and made a disgusted noise. “Is there a clean slice of meat in your body?” it grumbled irritably. 

173 tightened his grip on his holstered revolver. Humans wouldn’t have to be the ones getting hunted to extinction if they were strong.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoff and Awsten take Ben clothes shopping.

Awsten seemed more enthusiastic about Ben getting new clothes than Ben did. Geoff had never really noticed that he cared so much about fashion, but he had an opinion about everything Ben was trying on. You never stop learning new things about your friends, he supposed. 

“Do those pants again,” Awsten said, “The ones with the red stripes.”

Ben tapped at the terminal, the holochamber projecting a pair of fitted black pants with a red stripe going up the side of each leg onto him. “These ones?”

“Yeah, they’re stealthy and shit, but like…aesthetically pleasing too.” 

Geoff had been worrying about Awsten lately. The purple had been fading out of his leaves, but he _seemed_ the same as he always was. Was he getting sick or were they just changing colour again? 

Ben tilted his head, looking at the mirror outside the chamber. “I do prefer a slimmer fit. I feel like plain black would be more versatile, though.” 

Mrs Ghurkax, the elderly zalkil woman at the counter came over. “We’re doing a special on that material. Two garments for the price of one.”

Her other head, the one wearing a mask over its eyes, snored in agreement. 

Ben tapped the terminal a few times. “I’ll get two, then.” 

Mrs Ghurkax smiled and went to the backroom, probably to feed her cats with the food Geoff brought her. 

“You can get more if you want,” Awsten told Ben.

“I don’t want to spend all your money.”

“Dude, it’s fine. Mrs Ghurkax gives us discounts cuz we bring snacks for her pets and don’t ask questions when she asks us to dispose of weird packages.” 

A shiver ran through Geoff and he looked out of the store window. “Awsten.”

His tone made Awsten turn without question, looking out the window too. The quovroli watching them from the shop across the street looked away, pretending to be interested in whatever the shopkeeper was showing them. 

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, stepping out of the holochamber. 

“Quovroli,” Geoff answered. 

“They’re not _all_ bad, but some of them…” He shook himself. “That’s why so many humans take any excuse to get crazy augments. Makes ya less edible. Y’all done?”

Ben held up the chip he got from the holochamber. “That’s everything.”

As if on cue, Mrs Ghurkax emerged from the backroom. “Ready to pay?”

“Yup!” Awsten said, bringing up his credit account on his wristcom. 

Ben gave Mrs Ghurkax the chip and she plugged it into her terminal. “Eighty credits. The clothes will be ready next rotation,” she informed them.

“Nice,” Awsten said, transferring the money. 

Geoff's wristcom buzzed. A message from Ali.

"Ali, Foley and Patty are coming," he told Awsten and Ben.

" _Nice!_ "

It had been a long time since they'd come all the way out here. Hopefully it wasn't too risky for them now.

Geoff looked out the window. The quovroli was staring at them again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 173 goes undercover.

The water district was close enough to the surface of Zsashos V that one could guess how far into a rotation they were by the tempurature. Right now, it was cold enough that 173 could assume that it was night on the surface. The location should prove convenient since it would give him better access to working vessels on the surface. 

83N had proved easy to find. Though his old captors were nowhere to be seen, his new ones, Geoffrulai Wigington and Awsten-Conztaseer Knight, didn’t make a point of keeping to themselves. 173 could easily monitor them while posing as a worker repairing faulty pipes. The cover also gave him an excuse to where a gasmask and hazmat suit so that 83N wouldn’t recognise him and freak out again. 

“Wish they made those in my size,” another worker commented, chewing on a raw fish, “My scales are way too thin. I keep getting burned by spilled chemicals.”

“You’re part human, right?” Making conversation had helped him blend in and gather intel. So far he’d learned that Geoffrulai got a strong income from hacking, but had a much more popular business programming ancient human video games to work with modern tech and then selling the files at the local market. Awsten-Conztaseer built unique weapons from old scrap, but his business wasn’t as successful as Geoffrulai’s since most people only bought his products for the novelty of having waterguns that sprayed toxic chemicals. 

“Yeah. All the worst parts, though. I can’t even unhinge my jaw to eat. Chewing takes forever.” 

173 guessed that he was the result of a failed genetic experiment, probably dumped here under the assumption that he’d die quickly. 

“Have you tried blending your food first? Then you could just drink it.” 

The worker looked thoughtful. “That’s a good idea. I think it would digest pretty fast, though, so I’d still have to eat all the time, but it _would_ save some work.” 

They ate in silence for a while, 173 half watching the shack 83N was staying in. 

“Do you know about the quovroli that’s been watching you?” the worker asked lowly. 

“Huh?” 173 looked around and spotted the quovroli before it lumbered out of sight behind the large disused fountain in the middle of the atrium. 

“I don’t wanna make any racist assumptions, but I get a bad vibe from the way they just stare at you all the time. It's definitely creepy.” 

“It’s probably nothing,” 173 lied, making a mental note. 

“I hope so.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awsten takes a risk.

Ben’s clothes hadn’t been expensive, but if they had, Awsten wouldn’t have regretted a single credit. His outfit wasn’t anything special, just a dark button-up shirt tucked into black fitted pants, but _holy shit!_ Awsten had never had to try so hard to not look like he was staring at someone in his life. Good thing Geoff was busy at his shop right now, because there was no way he could hide it from both of them. 

As they entered the atrium their shack was in, Awsten waved at a worker he recognised, hoping to throw Ben off if he was getting suspicious. “Hey Otto!”

Otto waved back with the fish he was eating while moving scrap. “Hey Awsten!” 

It worked. Ben was looking at the workers instead now. “Maybe I should do that. Earn my keep.”

“Shut up, dude, you don’t have to earn anything,” Awsten argued, “Me and Geoff make more than enough selling the weapons I make.”

Ben frowned. “I’ve never seen you sell any of your weapons.”

“Well, I _do,_ you probably just haven’t noticed. You’re always watching those tapes and working out.”

Ben tilted his head as they went inside. “I am, aren’t I? Maybe I _do_ need I job. Some kind of hobby, at least.” 

Awsten glanced at him, suddenly nervous and probably about to royally fuck up. _Fuck it._ When else was an opportunity like this gonna happen? 

He took Ben’s bag of clothes and put it on the table, letting himself get close. “I can think of something different you could do,” he said lowly. 

Ben looked surprised and opened his mouth to say something. 

“Me too,” someone behind them growled. 

Awsten whipped around, shocked by the quovroli emerging from their bedroom, a gun pointed at his chest. 

“Put it away,” they warned. 

Awsten looked back at Ben, who hesitated for a moment before holstering the gun he’d pulled on them. 

“Ben?”

“What do you want?” Ben demanded, a dangerous look in his eyes. 

“I want you two to go outside and not make a scene.” 

Ben didn’t budge, so Awsten stayed put too. 

“What. Do you. Want.” His hand hovered over his gun. 

“Your head,” the quovroli finally hissed, “A gift for Avain, compensation for the murder of his favourite butcher.” 

Who the fuck was Avain?

Ben relaxed. “Leave him, then. If it’s just me you want, leave him and I’ll go quietly.” 

Holy shit. Ben was sacrificing himself for Awsten? Wait, did that mean he was interested or…

“Fine,” the quovroli growled, “If he comes outside before we leave the atrium, you both die.” It fished through a pocket with its free hand and tossed something to Ben. “Put them on.”

Handcuffs. 

“Don’t do anything,” Ben told Awsten as he snapped them on, “I’ll be right back.”

Awsten relaxed a little. He had a plan. Of course he did.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 173 goes on a rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *goes to the dash wiki to copy/paste an em dash*

83N getting captured by a quovroli was…unfortunate. Geoffrulai and Awsten-Conztaseer may have been indoctrinating him with their vicious lies, but at least they weren’t going to kill him. He wanted to kick himself for not keeping a better eye on the shack after they left—he _should’ve_ seen that quovroli sneak in—but right now he had to focus on correcting his mistake. 

“Hey, wait!” 

173 looked back to see the human-behak worker slithering after him. “Not now.”

“I just saw Ben in handcuffs, what’s happening?” 

“I’m getting him back.”

He caught up quickly. “I’ll help.” 

173 glanced at him again. Maybe his strength would be useful. 

“Fine. Do exactly what I say.” 

“Cool. Also what’s your name again?”

“One Sev-” Wait. He shouldn’t give him his actual name. 

“Wonsev. I’m Otto.” Good enough. 

“ _Shh!_ ” 173 held out a hand to stop Otto. 

Up ahead, the quovroli escorting Ben had been joined by two more. 173 ducked for cover behind an old cart and tuned in to hear what they were saying. 

“This isn’t the one.”

“Yes it is!” 

“It looks nothing like the one we’re looking for.” 

173 slowly unzipped his suit, taking out the pieces of rifle he’d strapped to his body. You never knew when something like this would come up.

“It looks exactly the same. Same augments, same hair, same everything, because it _is_ the same.” 

“The same as who?” 83N asked. 

“Shut up!”

“No, wait. Did you kill Avain’s butcher, human?”

173 slowly put the rifle together, cringing whenever pieces clicked or squeaked. The quovroli seemed to be too busy arguing to notice the odd noises, though. 

“I haven’t killed _anyone._ ” 83N answered, “Well, not in the last few revolutions.”

“See?”

“Well of course it would say that, it doesn’t want its head on a pike!”

“You told it we were going to kill it?”

83N’s original captor went silent. 

“ _Fucking dumbass._ ”

“Even if it’s not the one, it’s probably related to the real one,” the kidnapper defended, “We can use it as bait.”

“Just because they have the same augments, doesn’t mean they’re related.”

“You’re looking for someone with augments like mine?” 83N interrupted, “ _Here?_ ”

Shit. 83N had heard too much. 173 rolled out of his cover onto his belly, resting the rifle on the ground to steady it. The quovroli barely had a chance to turn and look at him before he put a shot through the eye of the one holding 83N. 

All at once, the others ducked out of the way, 83N taking the gun his captor had dropped and taking cover behind its body. 173 shuffled back behind his cart when he shot at him instead of the quovroli. 

“I’m here to rescue you, Eighty-Three N!” he called, peaking out from his cover.

“Oh, _fuck off,_ ” 83N glared at him from over the quovroli’s body and fired a few more shots at him. 

God, why wouldn’t 83N listen to him? He was supposed to _trust him._

“That’s the one we want!” a quovroli roared, “That one killed the butcher!” 

173’s fingers started to tremble. _Shit,_ not now. 

“Hey, ass-face!” Otto lunged out from his cover and darted down the corridor, shockingly fast for his size. He dived over a wrecked sign to the quovroli hiding behind it, wrapping his body around it and constricting. 

83N hesitated for a moment before turning his gun on the remaining quovroli, catching it off guard and searing its skull with several blasts before it turned and ran. He wasn’t as good a shot as 173, but right now 173 couldn’t even hold his gun. White-hot fire seared through his arm, forcing him to drop it. 

He heard a few more blasts as he crumpled over, gripping his wrist. 

“Thanks for the hand,” Otto said, “They were pretty strong, I thought they were gonna wiggle out.”

“No problem.”

There was a clang.

“How did you do that?” Otto asked in wonder.

“They had me put them on myself. I never locked them.”

83N was coming towards him. 173 wanted to believe he would give him a hand, but the evidence was against him. He scrabbled back as 83N turned the corner, and pointed his gun at his head. 

“Don’t shoot,” 173 pleaded, “I’m not the enemy, I’m trying to help you.” 

“What’s wrong with your wrist?” 

“Nothing,” he lied, “I’ll be fine, Let’s just go.”

83N scoffed. “I’m not going back to Ogre.”

“Please.”

83N lowered his gun. 

“Thank you.” 

And shot 173 through the knee. 

“That’s your warning,” 83N said over his scream, “If you put my friends in danger again, I’ll kill you.”

173 couldn’t feel fear, but 83N looked fucking scary as he picked up 173’s rifle and walked away.


End file.
